This is a Dresden plate, the pattern of the quilt my great grandmother, Twila Armstrong Beers, made for me sometime in the 1970s. That quilt is worn, and faded, and has been repaired more than once.
That’s kinda how my heart feels today. But there is still potential in me, potential to be part of the change, to help build the only thing that can make that change: community.
So of course I turn to quilting. I imagine Twila did too, in times of sorrow, pain, and disbelief. Because community is part and parcel of quilting. And very few of us quilt in isolation, it’s a craft that has its roots in community, working together toward a common end. Community, conversation and a common effort makes something both beautiful and useful.
I think Twila would have put community building high on her list of priorities, but in her day, it just was, you didn’t have to prioritise it, so maybe she wouldn’t see it that way.
I will stitch my faith in humanity and in the power of community into this fabric, and invite you all to join me in making something beautiful and lasting and good out of what we are feeling right now.
My community encompasses all of us. All you need to bring is goodwill.